


Freaky Friday, GOT Style

by EmilArchangelNemisis_Tardis_Pantalaemon7



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:02:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23751253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilArchangelNemisis_Tardis_Pantalaemon7/pseuds/EmilArchangelNemisis_Tardis_Pantalaemon7
Summary: One moment Varys was staring into the maw of a great dragon the next he wakes up in Kinglanding, months before the arrival of the Starks. Only... he is not himself. Perhaps all those years of wearing masks have paid off after all. Now he has several wars and the long night to avoid all without arousing any suspicion, espeacially from his past self...And what is up with Joffrey these days?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Freaky Friday, GOT Style

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya, I have several scenes written out for this, but they are not sequencial and it'll take a while to get them in order so it may be a while between postings, espeacially since I'm working on a Petyr Baelish time travel fic at the moment (don't ya just love these two?), anyway I hope you enjoy.   
> If anyone wants to take this idea and run with it in the meantime that'd be great, but please let me know if you do cause I'd love to see someone else's take on it since I don't have a beta...

“I hope I deserve this, I really do…”

One moment Varys was staring into the maw of a great dragon glowing with flame, the next he gave out a cry as he sat bolt upright in bed, covered in sweat and aware at once that something was very very wrong. 

He was in a large open room, as luxurious as those of the keep he had seen offered to the noble Lords and Ladies, his own room at the keep being a small and pokey backroom, but he didn’t ponder long on that as he looked down at himself to check for injury, running his hands over his torso.

He was wearing a luxurious cotton night shirt and he was slimmer than he should be. He froze and he shifted and felt a twinge of discomfort, were there shouldn’t be. He took a deep breath, it’s just a ghost pain, that’s all. He swallowed and shifted over to the side of the bed, shaking as he tried to ignore the odd dragging feeling between his legs of an organ that shouldn’t be there. He shuffled his way over to the polished mirror by the window and, with a deep breath, looked up.

He nearly screamed. He was staring into the wide blue eyes of one Joffrey Baratheon. He touched his face, so did Joffrey. He lowered his hand in disgust and saw the same expression paint itself across Joffrey’s features.

If this was the gods idea of a joke, it was a good one, he thought miserably. What if I wake up and become that evil little worm? Or what if he’s dead? Or possesses me? Am I possessing him? 

He stared at himself in the mirror. It was easier to see he wasn’t Joffrey from the thoughtful expression he wore, Joffrey had certainly never had such an expression. He would have to be careful of that going forward. Going forward? Was he actually thinking about this? Joffrey hadn’t come back to life surely? Maybe, if he had, he could persuade his mad mother to give into Daenarys before they invaded the city? He was rightful ruler, at least of the Lannister lot, could he persuade the soldiers to work for him? He thought of the story of the Sellsword and the three powerful men and grimaced. Joffrey had never been good at convincing people he deserved authority, but why else would he have been brought back, like this especially? Could he be in the past, capable of changing it even?

As he thought it in walked one of the serving girls, one who had worked for Cersei and died years ago. She jumped seeing him up and curtsied low. “I apologise, your grace.”

Joffrey might have revelled in her fear, but he didn’t. He didn’t like the taste of bile either, that rose in his throat at having someone curtsy to him for the first time in his life. 

“No, no it’s alright.” He waved a hand casually, not looking at her and internally grimacing as Joffrey’s rough tones left his mouth. It was going to take more of an effort to sound gentle in this form. “Do you what you have to do.”

He turned from her not wanting her to feel wary of him and went out onto the balcony, breathing in the fresh air and admiring the view of a Sept not yet obliterated. So he was in the past then… Work to be done.

Going unnoticed, not an option. Overt power? He'd never had it. This was going to be a new challenge. He hoped he didn't go mad like so many had before him. Now time to gather some information, see what this new world had in store...


End file.
